


Exactly what he wants

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Comeplay, D/s undertones, Dom!viktor, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Spanking, Sub!yuri, jailbait wait, no-Yuuri AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 08:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Viktor isn't as dumb as he looks. Yuri knows that with a bit of a push he'll get everything he wants.





	Exactly what he wants

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Yuri and Viktor decided that it's not sex if there's no dick touching. I'm sure they both realize how ridiculous that is, but they get off on it, so who am I to judge.

When Yuri comes home after his ballet practice, Viktor's already there. 

"Ah, there you finally are," he says. "I thought you'd be home earlier."

"Yeah, right," Yuri grunts. "Lilia had ideas. I had the time."

"Oh really, did you?" Viktor says as he helps Yuri take his coat off. Viktor's long fingers brush Yuri's arms through the shirt, ever so slightly, and that makes Yuri shiver in anticipation. He knows what wants.

"I was waiting for you," Viktor says. He hangs the coat, and then carefully unwraps Yuri's scarf off his neck, and for a second the back of his hand touches the naked skin of Yuri's adam's apple. The touch releases a small charge of static, probably from all the ministrations with the coat, and the sensation goes directly to Yuri's dick. "Oh, sorry, did that hurt?" Viktor asks, and gently rubs the spot with his fingertips. It's an innocent motion, not meant to arouse at all; Yuri shouldn't find it as hot as he does. 

"Dinner?" Viktor asks as he hangs Yuri's scarf next to the coat. "I was about to make us some pasta."

Yuri had a sandwich on his way home, and he's not hungry anymore. Not for food, anyway. He shakes his head.

"Okay then. Yuri. I need to talk to you." Here goes. "What were you trying to do, this morning with JJ? He's a guest at our rink, you're supposed to treat him as such. I haven't heard you swearing so much in months."

"He's a fucking moron, it's not my fault he's such an idiot," Yuri says. Also, not his fault JJ was there when he needed Viktor's attention.

"Yeah, I've heard that before. I think the entire city heard that by now. What I can't figure out is whether you were genuinely mad or just flirting with him."

He was neither, but it doesn't matter. "Why would you give a shit?" he asks.

"What was that?" Victor says, and looks him right in the eye, like he can see straight through him. Maybe he can; of course, he can, Yuri can see it in that bright smile. "Are you trying to make you angry?"

Have been for two days now, but thanks for noticing. "Shut the fuck up, I don't care what you think, Nikiforov. You're just as much of an idiot."

Viktor's smile turns predatory for a fraction of a second, and then it's gone and Viktor isn't even looking at him anymore, but Yuri saw it and he knows he's won.

"I'm going to walk Makka," Viktor says nonchalantly. "We'll be gone for twenty minutes. By the time I'm back, I want you clean, kneeling naked on the couch. You want a lesson? You're getting one, kitten." He picks up his coat, motions Makka to follow him and leaves without sparing Yuri another glance.

Yuri takes his time in the shower; twenty minutes is plenty of time to get warm and relaxed. He doesn't touch himself, but just the shower, the hot water and the smell of Viktor's shower gel are frustrating and arousing enough. 

He walks out of the bathroom naked, his hair still damp, and goes straight to the living room. Viktor didn't ask him to prepare any supplies, and he could try being a good boy and bring the lube, but doesn't. 

When he kneels on the couch, it's been exactly nineteen minutes since Viktor left. He waits another minute, and... nothing happens. Viktor isn't there.

He bites his lip in frustration and waits. Twenty-one minute. Twenty-two.

Twenty-three, and he's really fucking annoyed with the fucking idiot for not knowing how to use a fucking watch. Twenty-four; a drop of water from his hair falls on his shoulder and runs down his back, making him shiver. Twenty-five. Twenty-six.

Twenty-eight minutes after Viktor left he comes back. He opens the door, lets Makka rush in and walks past Yuri as if he isn't even there; he doesn't even spare a single glance in Yuri's direction as he follows Makka to the bathroom to wash her paws. 

Five minutes later Yuri hears Makka run into her corner - she always sleeps there after a walk - but Viktor doesn't show up. The asshole takes his time in the bathroom, then walks to the bedroom to fetch something, then into the kitchen to drink a glass of water.

When Yuri tries to shift a little, the leather of the couch sticks to his knees, and it's much colder where he wasn't touching it. The couch is new, and he can smell the leather; a warm and earthy smell that reminds him of Viktor. He can smell Viktor's shower gel on himself, too, and a bit of Viktor's aftershave as Viktor walks past him to the kitchen. It's like Viktor is all around him even when he isn't touching him. 

"Ooh, Yuri, this won't do," Viktor says as he comes back from the kitchen, a glass in his hand. "Look at you, you're leaking all over. You won't last a minute like that. Come on, kitten, take care of it. You know how to use your hands, don't you?"

"Oh fuck you, that part, I could do without you," Yuri complains, but touches himself, anyway. 

"There, there, don't be like that," Viktor says and puts the glass on the table. "That's it. Yeah."

Yuri runs his fingers over his dick experimentally, and Viktor's right: he's leaking. He didn't even notice when he got so hard. He gathers his precome in the palm of his hand and wraps the hand around his dick, moving it slowly. 

"Oh, don't rush on my account," Viktor says cheerfully. "I've got all the time. You're the one who's impatient here."

He is. Oh, is he. He imagines everything he wants to get today: Viktor's fingers on his skin, Viktor's breath in his ear, Viktor's cock - and comes all over his hand in just a few fast frictions. He tries hard to contain the spill, but it only makes it worse. Some of it lands on his chest and stomach, but some ends up on the sofa, anyway. 

"That's it, that's my boy," Viktor praises and sits next to him on the couch. "Come on, clean it up and come here."

Yuri licks the come off the couch carefully; it tastes like leather and himself, but still reminds him of Viktor. 

"Over there, too," Viktor points, and Yuri cleans up another drop, this time holding eye contact with his lover. Viktor's pupils are so huge that it's almost impossible to tell the colour of his eyes anymore - or maybe that's just Yuri's imagination, but it doesn't matter. He finds another drop and licks it off, too.

"Okay, good, come here," Viktor says, and Yuri comes willingly and lies across Viktor's lap; knees and elbows on both sides of Viktor's thighs, ass in the air. 

Viktor runs a hand gently over his back, from neck to tailbone, sending shivers all over Yuri's body. He's a little more relaxed now that he's taken the edge off, but also a bit cold and still very, very excited. 

Viktor runs a finger over the crack of his ass, but doesn't touch the hole. It still makes Yuri's dick jerk with interest over Viktor's denim-covered thighs.

The first blow comes suddenly, when Yuri isn't expecting it. It's strong; strong enough for it to sting even when Viktor isn't touching him anymore. 

"You've been acting out for days," Viktor says. "Do you think it's the best way to get my attention?" The second blow is weaker, and it's so frustrating Yuri could cry.

The third one is even lighter than the second, and Yuri wiggles his ass and demands, "Is that all you've got, old man?"

"You're a brat, do you know that?" Viktor asks, and delivers another blow, almost as strong as the first.

The next couple of blows are almost strong enough, the key word being "almost". They're just bad enough to make Yuri want more, but not nearly as painful as he wants them to be. He whines helplessly. 

"What? What is is, I can't hear you," Viktor says. 

Yuri doesn't reply and gets a caress - a fucking caress on his butt, gentle and soothing. Yuri moans.

"What? Say it, kitten. All you have to do is say."

"Fuck you," Yuri says, and gets another gentle touch masked as a blow. It's fucking infuriating. 

The next blow is stronger, but just barely.

"Please," he whispers.

"Please what?" Viktor asks, the asshole. "Please stop? Please go easy?"

Two more barely there strokes follow.

"Please more!" Yuri gives up. "Please, Viktor, please, more!"

"Oh, you should have just said so," Viktor says, happily, and delivers a perfectly strong blow to Yuri's left ass cheek; just the right amount of pain and sensation. "Like that?"

Yuri hums.

"What?" Another blow, just a bit weaker than Yuri needs. "I can't hear you."

"More!" Yuri begs. "More, Vitya, please, please."

Viktor delivers another perfect blow, and then another one.

"Like that," Yuri says. "Just like that, yes, please."

"That's my boy," Viktor praises. "I know you can when you want to."

Thee more blows land, spreading pain and arousal. 

"Now, kitten, what else do you want?" Viktor asks as he hits Yuri again, and then once more. "Is there anything else you would like me to do?"

"Yes," Yuri demands. "Fuck me! I want you to fuck me!"

Does he ever. The image of Viktor's cock doesn't let him sleep some nights.

"You know I can't do that yet, kitten," Viktor says with regret in his voice. "Not just yet, okay? Have some patience. But I can do the next best thing."

Through the noise in his years, Yuri can hear a wet click of a lube bottle opening just as Viktor lands another perfect strike on his ass. Then cold fingers touches his entrance. Without any hesitation at all, Viktor inserts his lubed finger in Yuri's ass, as deep as it can go. It hurts a bit, in a perfect way. Viktor's other hand lands on Yuri's ass, and the blow is a little stronger than the ones before. Viktor withdraws his finger and Yuri whines with the loss as he gets another blow.

"Can you take two at once?" Viktor asks.

"Yes! Yes, I can, yes, please!"

"That's what I like to hear," Viktor says, and two fingers breach Yuri's hole at the same time. It's so perfectly painful he barely holds back a sob. Viktor scissors his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through Yuri, and then hits him again, even stronger this time.

"More!" Yuri begs.

"More of what? More spanking, or more fingers?"

"Both!" Yuri tries to say, but finds that he's too breathless to form the word properly.

"What?" Viktor asks, and his fingers go deeper into Yuri as the other hand lands with another perfect blow. "I can't hear you."

Yuri wants to call Viktor a fucking asshole and a torturer, but all that comes out is, "Please, please, more!"

Viktor withdraws both fingers and hits him gently, and Yuri can feel tears forming in the corner of his eyes, both from pain and frustration.

"More of what, Yuri?" Viktor asks. "I can't do it if I don't know what you want."

Yuri swallows hard and gathers himself, just enough to say, "Everything. I want more of everything. Please."

"Ooh, good," Viktor says, and another perfect hit lands on his ass. "You're a naughty brat, but you do know what's good for you!"

Three fingers stretch him impossibly. It hurts, and burns, and he's so perfectly full, and Viktor hits him again, even harder than before; or maybe he's already tender enough to feel like it hurts more. He moans and lets the tears come. 

"Good boy, you're going so good," Viktor praises, fucking him in earnest with his fingers and delivering absolutely perfect strikes with the palm of his hand. Yuri's dick is trapped between his stomach and Viktor's jeans, and it's so painfully hard that...

"You're so good, Yuratchka, so very good for me. You're perfect," Viktor says, and hits him again while his fingers brush Yuri's prostate every time he moves them in and out. "You're so perfect. You can come now. Come for me."

These words, timed perfectly with the strongest blow yet and a fourth finger entering his hole, makes Yuri explode. He screams on top of his lungs as he spills himself over Viktor's jeans and his own stomach, and almost passes out with the ecstasy. Viktor keeps fucking his hole with his fingers, but his palm is gentle on his ass cheeks, soothing; it feels nice, now that Yuri's coming down from the high.

"You're so hot, Yuratchka," Viktor says. "I could barely contain myself." He motions on his own crotch, where his hard cock is very visible through a layer of denim.

Yuri isn't too worn out to miss out on this. "I can help you with that," he offers. "I could ride you. Or I could suck you off, would you like that?"

"Oh, Yuratchka, there's nothing I want more," Viktor replies and helps Yuri sit back up into kneeling position on the couch. "But not yet, you can't. Unzip my jeans, please?"

Yuri does that willingly, unbuckling Viktor's belt and unzipping his jeans, wet from Yuri's own come. He's pleased to see that Viktor isn't wearing any underwear, and he's just as rock hard as Yuri was a minute before. Yuri steals a touch, making Viktor jerk and hiss loudly.

"Yura, don't," he warns him. "Just sit back. You can watch." Then Viktor reaches to Yuri, and before Yuri can realize what he's trying to do, he scoops up some of Yuri's come that's still white on Yuri's stomach and spreads it over his own palm. It's the hand Viktor used to spank Yuri; the palm is red and, if the burn on Yuri's ass is anything to go by, probably very sensitive. 

Viktor spreads Yuri's come over his own cock and sighs with relief. Yuri watches him hungrily and wishes it was his own hand. Viktor leans on the back on the couch, closes his eyes, and fucks gently into his own palm. Yuri's spent dick twitches at the sight.

Viktor runs his hand over his jizz-covered dick a few more times; Yuri can see precome at the tip and wants to taste it so bad it's almost painful.

After a minute, Viktor looks at him and asks, "Come here. A little closer."

Yuri obeys, and Viktor, with a bit of fumbling, puts his still wet fingers back inside Yuri's hole. Just the tips and only two of them, but Yuri's dick goes from half-hard to fully hard in the few seconds it takes Viktor to rearrange them.

"Oh, to be young." Viktor grins when he notices. "Touch yourself? Please?"

Under Viktor's heated gaze, Yuri puts his hand on his cock. Viktor's hands move in sync: the fingers in Yuri's ass and the hand on his own dick. It only takes Viktor a few frictions to come like that, and the sight of Viktor losing it for him, because of him, almost brings Yuri off the third time. It's the hottest thing Yuri's ever seen in his entire life and he'll never get used to it. 

He notices that Viktor is much better than Yuri at containing the come in his fist; barely anything spills down in Viktor's jeans. "Can I? Viktor, please," he begs, and for once, Viktor doesn't pretend not to know what Yuri wants. He raises his palm, and Yuri uses his free hand to keep it still as he starts licking it clean. It tastes like both Viktor and himself; the best taste in the world. Viktor's fingers are still in Yuri's ass, moving lazily in and out. 

Yuri fucks himself on Viktor's fingers in his hole and tries to get as much of Viktor's in his mouth as he can at the same time. Viktor is of no help at all, he just holds his hands up and lazily watches as Yuri tries to get himself off. Somehow, that, too, is fucking hot, and it takes Yuri just a few minutes of Viktor's fingers, his looks and his taste to come Viktor's hands in his mouth and in his ass. It's not hard to imagine that it's Viktor touching his dick, too.

"Oh look at you, you're completely dry," Viktor says as he watches Yuri spasm. "So horny. Wanted it so much that you ran out of come."

Yuri doesn't have a witty comeback. He's suddenly completely boneless, and only Viktor's arms that are now around him keep him from falling down. Viktor helps him lie on the couch, gently, and kisses his temple. "You're so beautiful," he says. "You're perfect. I love you so much."

Later Viktor draws a bath for him and carries him there, like he always does when they do this. Then he helps Yuri into his fluffy pajamas, and Yuri once again doesn't complain as Viktor picks him up and carries him to bed. Secretly basking in his Viktor's undivided attention, relaxed and content, Yuri can't help but think: it's January. Less than nine weeks left. Nine more weeks, and he'll have everything, every fantasy ever. Just a bit more patience.


End file.
